Nine Windows
by Snakeshark196
Summary: Trent loves nine, he will do anything for it. Even if it meant killing someone. Things go wrong, real wrong. But as long as Ninth God is pleased, who cares right. Warning: this is a very demented story. Viewer discretion is advised. Trentx9


**Disclaimer: I do not own TD anything. No profit is **_**ever **_**being made. (The nine finger idea is not mine as well, it belongs to another awesome author...TheImpossiblyAwesomeAuthor: ), I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing it.)**

**I get very demented in this story, so be warned. Trent is double OOC. So I hope you like.**

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Trent was walking down the street one day when he came a cross a house on the corner for rent. It had nine windows.

He smiled nine times and gasped nearly having an orgasm from excitement.

He ran up to it making sure he took 9 steps. He looked down at he stairs and saw there were...9 of them. He felt himself buckle in the knees, "Is this my dream house or what?" he asked himself.

He looked up again seeing it had only two floors. But there has to be an attack and a basement so he let it slide. Because four plus three times two plus one plus three divide by two is nine.

He marched up the nine steps and pushed the door open. He looked around and found himself in a hallway, he look to the left, a living room and to the right, a dining hall. He shrieked in excitement.

A woman came walking down the hall and Trent looked at her. "Can I help you sir," she asked. She had the business type attire, button down shirt over collar shirt, skirt and heels. Her dark hair let down over her shoulders.

"Can I rent this house?" he asked eagerly.

The woman saw the weird look in his eyes and saw he was kind of crazy. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Do I need one?" Trent asked, hoping he wouldn't.

"Actually, yes you do sir," she informed him.

Trent sighed, "But, I really want this house. It has nine windows and nine stairs."

"Is that the only reason your interested?" she asked.

Trent nodded nine times.

"Well, I don't know," she said, "I have to appointments for today, so if they turn it down, then I could give you a try."

Trent was elated, "You don't have nine appointments."

"Nope, only two."

Trent growled in frustration, "You have to make seven more."

"And why is that sir?"

"Because the nine God will smite you with 9000 times of damage," Trent said expanding his hands wide. "If you don't."

The woman just quirked an eyebrow. "Have you just been released from the mental hospital?"

Trent nodded, "Yeah, how'd you know."

"Just a guess," she rolled her eyes, "Now come back and if we have something for you. I will let you know."

"Don't you want my nine digit phone number?" Trent asked, holding out his number, he conveniently had on a piece of lined paper with nine lines.

The woman looked at it. 99-339-6699.

"I don't get how you can have a nine digit phone number, but I will call if I don't get an offer," she replied.

"Thanks," he said shaking her hand nine times, which annoyed her a little.

He left only to come back nine seconds later. "So can I have it."

The woman shook her head, "You just left and came back."

"I know, but I thought perhaps you were done with your other appointments."

"Well I'm not," she said showing him the door.

He pushed her away and walked into the dining room.

"You have to leave sir," the woman said.

"Why are there not nine chairs in this dining room?" he demanded, seeing only eight. "I demand you go out and by another, but make sure it matches."

The woman just took a quick breath trying to com down. "Sir please leave."

"I need nine chairs," he growled in frustration, "or else this house is boring to me."

Trent proceeded to break two chairs so at least there were six of them. Six was like a female version of nine. He never really thought of if numbers had genders before. Perhaps the nine God was female. He smiled.

He remembered if the nine God was a she, he would have to please her. So he took one chair and bashed it on the ground.

The woman gasped, "What the fuck? You are goanna have to pay for that."

"I will," Trent said reaching into his pocket and showing her $999, 999 and 99 cents. How he could fit 99 cents in his pocket is still a mystery.

The woman gasped at how much money was there. "You still have to leave."

"No I don't," Trent said being stubborn, smashing one more chair.

He smiled as he took the debris and threw them out a window.

The woman was flabbergasted. She went over and grabbed Trent by his arm and tried to drag him to the door. "Sir you have worn out you're welcome."

"I need this house," he gasped. "I need it. Let go of me." He looked down and saw she had him by the shoulder with five fingers.

"No, three," he shouted, grabbing the woman's pinky and thumb and trying to break them off her hand.

The woman screamed in agony. "Let go, you sick fuck," she yelled.

He ignored her and continued to try and take at least one finger off so she would have nine. So he decided that instead of her pinky or thumb, he worked on her middle finger. She yelped in pain even more.

The woman decided brute force was needed so she kicked him in his crotch.

Trent let go of her hand and stood there. The woman was confused, "Why are you not double over for?"

"Cause I have nine testicles?" he said, though he actually didn't, he only liked to think he did. "Now let me cut off your middle finger."

"No, you sick bastard," she said holding her hand far from him.

"Come on," Trent said getting annoyed. "Can I least have this house?"

"No," she screamed at him as she backed away and he followed. "Now get out before I call the cops."

"Will there be nine of them?" Trent looked hopeful.

"I don't fucking know," she screamed. "Why are you so obsessed with a freaking number."

"Because it's AWESOME," Trent replied with ease.

"You are insane," she spat at him, "It's only a number."

"How dare you?" Trent said feeling insulted. He continued forward and she continued backward. "Say your sorry to the number 9," he demanded.

She was confused and scared of this psycho.

Eventually she accidentally tripped and landed backwards smacking her head pretty hard on the ground.

Trent gasped and raced over, "You have to smack your head eight more times, common get up and do it."

The woman just lay in pain holding her head.

"Okay, I will help," he assured her, grabbing her head with both hands and smashing it into the hard tiled floor eight more times.

After the fifth time, blood oozed out but Trent didn't seem to notice, but if he did, he didn't care.

After the ninth time, he saw the blood. He shrugged. He shook her and yes she was dead.

"I need to kill eight more people," he panicked. Looking around the room he was in.

He decided he would do that later. Having thought that maybe his Nine God was female, he had grown a boner and wanted to do something with it. So he went to the shed and grabbed a chainsaw and a sander and headed into the dining room. Where he made a nice replica of the number 9 out of the dining room table.

He then proceeded to getting naked and having sex with the wooden nine, not caring he got splinters on his dick and up his ass (yes he tried to stick it up for pleasure.)

He had jizzed about five times before a family of four arrived and was horrified at what they saw. The father covered his children's eyes. The mother blocked her own vision.

Trent saw them and smiled, "Come join in. Though I still need four more people."

"What the heck are you doing?" the father demanded.

"I'm having sex with nine," he said with ease, "Duh."

"Please get some clothes on," The man said.

"I can't, it hasn't been nine hours yet," Trent replied.

"Well where's the guide," the mother asked, for some reason they decided not to take their young children away.

"She's dead," Trent replied.

The parents gasp, and they see her in a pool of blood in the kitchen.

"Oh..." the father said, "We'll leave soon."

Trent remembered he needed to kill eight more people. "Wait first, I have to kill you," he stood up, still naked. He grabbed the chainsaw and chased after them.

The family saw a naked psycho nine obsessed killer with a chainsaw coming after them and they booked it. They ran out of the house and jumped back into their car and sped off.

Trent feeling disappointed turned the chainsaw off and set it down. He sighed, "Dang, I was so close."

He then heard an ice cream truck coming. He suddenly craved nine ice cream cookie sandwiches. So he ran back into the house, still naked, and ran back out with a hand full of money.

He waited on the side-walk and saw the ice cream man coming. The man saw him and decided to skip this stop and drive by.

Trent flabbergasted, chased after him, 9 times faster than a normal human.

Eventually Trent got his nine ice cream sandwiches and arrived back at the house with nine windows and nine steps. After leaving the ice cream truck on fire and having killed the ice cream man with nine popsicle sticks to his throat.

"Now those were tasty," he said to himself. When he entered he saw an elderly couple looking at horror at what was the house. The recked dining room and

He gasped, they saw him naked and covered in vanilla ice cream and gasped. The old man had a heart attack and fell over and died. His wife gasped as well, but didn't die.

But she did die when Trent tried to rape her nine times, trying to give her nine orgasms which failed miserably.

He killed four people, five more and he would be happy. So he grabbed the chainsaw and went next door to see if anyone was home. He found a mother and her teenager son.

"Here's Trent," he laughed.

The boy shielded himself in front of his mother, who coward behind him.

"Get out, leave us alone," he spat at the naked chainsaw killer.

"No," Trent charged. He cut the son up into nine pieces. His mother gasped as she tried to make a run for it through the kitchen.

Trent followed as he jumped over the body only to slip on his blood and fall. Trent cursed himself nine time and stood up. Luckily he had not dropped the chainsaw on himself. But he knew he had to do this eight more times.

So as the mother escaped for her life, Trent decided to slip on her sons blood eight more times, nearly knocking his dumb as out cold.

He grabbed his chainsaw and ran to the backyard to see she had eluded him. He sighed. "I need four more. How hard can it be?" He dropped the chainsaw and decided he'd kill with a kitchen knife instead it wouldn't be as messy.

He went next door and found a middle age man with a bald head and beard on the shitter (toilet.) "Interesting," Trent said popping in and stabbing him in the head. "Never killed someone on the potty before. Three more."

The man just fell of the toilet dead, with a brown stain behind him. He searched the rest of the house and found of no one else.

Trent got irritated and destroyed 9 random plates in his cabinet. So he moved onto the fourth house. He found a guy and his lady doing it in bed. He smiled and jumped in hoping to make a threesome, but they were horrified and kicked him out, saying they'd call the cops.

He shrugged. Trent decided to just kill them. He made him watch as he slit her throat. He then cut off both hands then cut off one of the fingers on one so there would be nine. Trent didn't know what to do with the tenth finger so he stuffed it down the guys throat where he eventually choked and died.

One person left. He decided he needed a nap, so he took a nine-hour nap, so he hitch hiked back to the first house and slept in the dining room with nine. Cuddling up with it.

When he woke up nine hours later, he found himself hand cuffed. He was fully dressed, somehow, and he was now in the back of a police car.

"What happened?" he asked.

The cop driving replied, "You're going to prison for killing eight people."

"I need to kill one more," Trent struggled.

"You are a psychopath," the cop spat at him.

"No," Trent disagreed, "I'm a worshiper. I follow nine's rules and I will be sent to ninth heaven when I die."

With that Trent was sent back to prison. Where he killed another person, an inmate to make nine.

But that inmate had friends and killed Trent by sticking branding the number 10 all over his body.

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**That's it folks. Like I said, I am demented, only when it comes to Rated M stuff. **

**Dedicated to Wish I was a Pirate for being an awesome friend and author. :) Rock on Dude. **


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